


It takes a Village (or just a pack)

by what_about_the_fish



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Age Play, But it takes a pack to raise a little, Daddy Geralt, Little Jaskier, M/M, Primarily Geraskier, Wolf Pack, caregiver witchers, sexual age play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:46:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28377933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_about_the_fish/pseuds/what_about_the_fish
Summary: When a winter with his crush, and the rest of his family is offered Jaskier can't say no, even though he knows staying big that long will be a risk.The fact he doesn't even make it up the Killer before he drops leaves Jaskier raw and scared.OrA healthy dose of misunderstanding and a pack of wolves stepping up to look after their new baby - shenanigans and sexy times ensue
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, with side notes of wolf pack shenanigans
Comments: 40
Kudos: 279





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ambersagen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambersagen/gifts), [kaermorons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaermorons/gifts).



> Big thanks go out to Kaermorons who made this fic happen with their amazing support and magnificent think meat.  
> This is unbeta'd all mistakes are my own

Jaskier was a master performer, he’d swear to his skills to the end of his days and thank them for being the only reason he had hidden this from Geralt for so long. That and the fact their relationship had not proceeded past a little hand-holding, cuddles, and one memorable kiss. As long as they kept on this path, he’d be fine. 

But the damn witcher had to invite Jaskier to winter with him at his damn castle in the damn mountains with his damn pack. Jaskier was screwed.

The times it had happened out on the path when he wasn’t able to pay for company, well, it mostly happened when Geralt had left for a hunt and taken a little too long to come back, that’s when he couldn’t help but wrap himself in one of Geralt's old shirts and slip his thumb into his mouth in comfort. If Geralt sniffed the air and scrunched his face in confusion when he eventually got back, Jaskier would play it off as worry and bumble along about musicians and emotions of the heart.

An entire season in a keep, snowed in, comfortable and warm and so close to Geralt. Dear gods, if the witcher decided to push their budding romance into the physical, Jaskier was going to be very, very screwed.

He wanted to refuse, but even the hesitation in reply had changed Geralt’s entire stance to utter defeat that Jaskier packed his fucking issues aside and spun his most masterful performance ever. Smile on his face cooing his absolute delight at the offer and proceeding to pester the witcher’s ear off with requests for details of his home. How they might reach the keep and what a simple bard may need to pack to be comfortable for a winter in the mountains.

The trek up the mountain was gruelling. Jaskier did everything in his power to stay strong, not complain, and not bother Geralt. He didn’t want to make a fuss before he even got there. He had to stay strong... stay big and everything would be ok. 

Except it wasn’t going to be. They got caught in a small snow storm a day out from arrival and had to shelter in a cave for a night and half the next day. Geralt had to wrap himself around Jaskier just to keep him from shuddering. The feeling of protection was soothing in all the worst ways: Jaskier found himself losing touch with his walls, the edges slipping down as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He let the heat fill him up and spread itself through his body, his limbs until he felt loose, relaxed. He didn’t notice when he slipped his thumb into his mouth and certainly didn’t know when he called out “Daddy” in his sleep.

Geralt noticed.

And to say he had a hecking concern was an understatement. His bard didn’t smell distressed, in fact, his scent had turned sweet and soft, more relaxed than he’d ever scented on the man, except maybe after he’d paid for company. And now he thought on it, it had been a long time since he’d seen Jaskier pay for those kinds of services, and it was good too, he overpaid by far too much and only his scowl at Geralt’s growls had stopped him from demanding refunds for Jaskier.

Perhaps their romance, _gods_ he hoped it was a romance, was actually blossoming. He knew they were going slow, but Geralt had issues letting his guard down on the path and he wanted to give himself wholly to this man. It was what Jaskier deserved. He deserved the world.

The fact when Jaskier shouted out for his daddy in his sleep made Geralt hard in his pants and made him fill with shame. The man was clearly having a nightmare, most likely another fault of Geralt’s and wanting his family to soothe him. Letting an innocent name go to his cock really made Geralt the bad guy. Pervert, monster, lech went through his mind as he curved his groin away from Jaksier’s ass so as not to cheapen the moment any further.

The wind howled and roared from the opening of the cave, and Jaskier turned into the witcher’s chest to bury his face into the warm heat. He was having the most wonderful dream, feeling safe and small and loved. He let a little whine out and yawned as he reached out and tangled his fingers into Geralt’s hair. That was when his mind came back to him and he woke.

He yelped when he realised what he was doing, and how much Geralt was arching away from him, trying to get away without hurting his feelings it seemed, keeping the man warm still as was his duty but rebuffing his obvious loss of control.

Jaskier was still feeling small when he woke, his fingers ached to slip into his mouth, he wanted to curl into himself and cry suddenly, the feeling of being surrounded by the strongest man he’d known, the one he thought he could almost trust with his secret and he was turning away from him practically trying to escape his hold.

The part of Jaskier’s brain still able to connect the dots of the big world spiraled as he pushed himself away from Geralt and automatically regretted that when the cold engulfed him. He mumbled an apology without eye contact, gathered the furs around his shoulders as he stared at his feet. He registered Geralt speaking, something about the storm dying down, and they could get going as soon as he was ready. Jaskier didn’t pick up the gentle tone in the witcher’s voice, he only heard what his spiral of self-loathing was feeding him.

_How could you let yourself get like this? He was repulsed by you. He knows your secret; he knows, and he hates it. Would probably prefer to leave you here than take you back to the keep. Probably regretting everything, embarrassed to even introduce you to his family. It’s just like your own home, Julian, no one wants you. No one will love you like this. One slip up and you’ll be thrown from the battlements._

“No!” Jaskier said aloud, almost too loud into the silent cave. Geralt gave him a look, his head tilted in confusion. 

Jaskier tried to grasp for that part of him that pulled him up, pulled his bigger self free, frayed, and barely there he stammered, “Sorry, no I’m good I can go on, I’m ready.”

Geralt shrugged, he looked like he wanted to ask more but continued to pack up their camp and ready Roach. Jaskier folded the furs and clasped his cloak tight around his neck before grabbing his lute and holding it close to his chest. He could do this, Geralt had said it was just a day's trek till they got to the keep. He could make one footfall in front of the other and then he could collapse and sleep and everything would be better, everything would work out. He could do this.

~~~~~

The storm had made the pass difficult and more treacherous than Geralt would have liked, but Jaskier barely made a noise and didn't complain once. That didn’t stop Geralt from worrying. The man hadn’t been right since he’d woken in Geralt’s arms, he’d been sure he had hidden his lust from Jaskier but the longer they went on in silence the more he realised he must have offended him. He would make this up to him, he had to. Once they got home, he’d make everything ok again.

Everyone was there when they made their way through the big gates. Vesemir was standing out front and his brothers, Eskel and Lambert, stood slightly back with huge grins on their faces.

“We were worried you got stuck in the storm,” Vesemir said as he moved into Geralt’s space, resting his forehead against the other and holding him tight. “Well met, pup.” 

Geralt basked in the scent of home that Vesemir always held with him, closing his eyes for a moment before pulling away and turning to introduce Jaskier. The man was standing back with Roach, looking and smelling of nerves and fatigue. 

“My friend, Jaskier. It’s an honour to introduce you to Vesemir, my mentor and my brother’s, Eskel and Lambert.” His smile was warm and inviting, or at least he hoped so, as he watched Jaskier take a long slow blink before he seemed to find himself and pulled on a smile.

Everything about Jaskier seemed forced and pained. It hurt Geralt to see although he thought surely his family would not notice having never met the man before, but Geralt could plainly see Jaskier was uncomfortable. He figured he must be exhausted, and perhaps some sleep would do the bard some good.

As he greeted his brother’s and hugged and roughhoused with them, Jaskier trailed a little behind, accompanied by Vesemir. Geralt dumped their bags inside the great hall and turned to fix up Roach before a hand on his arm stopped him .

Vesemir whispered, too quiet for a man to hear, “Your bard is weary, we set up the room opposite yours, the fire is on and the sheets are fresh. See to him. I’ll fix Roach.” Geralt smiled and nodded slightly, thanking his mentor for his forethought.

“Come on, Jaskier, you must be exhausted, I'll show you to your room.” Geralt said in a lighthearted tone. He wished he could wipe the look of worry and sadness from the bard's face. 

Geralt led Jaskier through the keep until they made it to the dorms. Long since converted into single rooms, most were too large to keep warm, so they kept to the smaller ones, which all happened to be on one landing. 

Geralt opened the door into Jaskier’s room. The heat met them in the face and Geralt watched as Jaskier visibly shuddered at the change in temperature.

“Vesemir got this ready for you, my room is just across the way if you need me.” Geralt said. 

Jaskier still hadn’t spoken more than his hellos when they arrived. 

“Jaskier?” Geralt asked. The bard turned to look at him and tilted his head. “Are you ok?” 

“Of course I am, just tired is all,” Jaskier replied, that fake smile plastered across his face again. 

Geralt had to hide the flinch the smile evoked in him. 

“If you're sure, then. I’ll come get you when dinner is ready.” He said and retreated from the room, closing the door behind him.

He didn’t stop to change, instead running back down to the stables to see to Roach. The mare would never forgive him if he just left her in another's care after she had looked after him all year.

~~~~~~~

Jaskier could barely feel his limbs, everything felt numb, like he floated up the narrow stairs and halls following Geralt through the keep. He watched as Geralt showed him his room, was a spectator in his conversation, and then crashed back into his body when the door shut and he was alone.

He gasped under the pressure, his whole being pushing him down hard and fast. His clothes suddenly felt too big for him, too rough and heavy on his skin. The buttons and ties were all too complicated and as Jaskier tried to pull at them, they just seemed to get tighter and more tangled. His bottom lip wobbled as he tried to get his bearings, a big bed in a dark room he didn’t recognise and he was alone.

He tried to turn the handle of the door, but it was stiff and heavy in his hands that weren’t his hands, too big for him, still numb. His eyes searched the room as they filled with tears, and he was getting very tired and there was a big bed with lots of furs on it. 

He stumbled over and lifted the covers, crawling in fully clothed, boots covered in mud and all into the bed. He slipped his thumb in his mouth and screwed his eyes shut. If he just concentrated real hard he’d be safe again and Daddy would be here and everything would be ok again. 

He fell asleep like this.

~~~~~

Geralt found Roach happy and seen to, brushed clean, a thick rug strapped around her back and munching on some sweet hay. She barely looked twice when he walked in to check her out, snuffling at his pockets for a treat and nipping at the soft underside of his arm when she found him lacking. Satisfied she was in fine spirits, Geralt left her and returned to the keep. 

He went to his room to remove his armor, a ritual that signified the beginning of winter and a time to relax. Before that he stopped by Jaskier’s room, leaning in to listen and finding the bard quiet and his breathing deep and even, he left him to sleep.

He went to join his family in the great hall once he was changed into soft warm clothes of winter. He didn’t bother bathing as tomorrow would bring a long list of chores and frankly, Geralt needed some time with his loved ones and less time in his head alone right now. 

Lambert and Eskel were playing a heated game of Gwent when he settled onto a bench to watch, Vesemir came out of the kitchens with a jug of ale and an extra mug filling it for Geralt first before topping up the others. He thanked the man before taking a long pull. The tension he was holding finally began to slip. He was home and he was safe. There was nothing they couldn’t work through together.

“Alright pup, out with it,” Vesemir said, knowing full well Geralt was holding something in.

The others stopped their game, laying their cards down and watching Geralt.

“You noticed then?” Geralt mumbled in reply.

Vesemir laughed at that, “Son, you don’t get to my age without noticing. Besides, I know you and I know you are hurting, come on out with it.”

“It’s Jaskier,” Geralt said, shoulders slumping a little. 

“No shit,” Lambert muttered under his breath, Eskel smacked him over the head in reply.

“He seemed a little uneasy. Was the journey bad?” Eskel asked helpfully. 

“He was fine until... after he woke in the cave. I had to hold him while the storm came over. He was so cold he would have perished.” Geralt went quiet and everyone waited as he found his words. “He had a dream and… well, he said some things and I…” his ears pinked and his heart rate spiked a little.

“We won’t judge you, Geralt,” Vesemir said, moving to offer some support by way of a hand on the back of his neck. 

“He must have been having a nightmare because he was calling out for…” Geralt looked up, it was hard to say, he was sure Lambert would laugh at him and the others would think him a deviant. “Anyway, he smelt happy and soft but his words, and I might have got hard and I tried to pull away to keep Jaskier’s dignity but he must have felt it and now he’s been like _this_ ever since.” 

He dropped his head into his hands, finally able to breathe. His family would help, they had to.

“What did he say, Geralt? Doesn’t sound like a nightmare with how he scented.” Eskel asked.

He was interrupted from answering by a cry.

They all stiffened, hands moving to weapons. Even in winter a witcher never went without a blade of some sort. Not anymore. 

They listened and heard it again, coming from Jaskier’s room. Geralt went to stand, but Vesemir's hand kept him in place. “Just a moment, pup,” He said.

Jaskier cried out again, the sound was small and scared, what followed could only be described as a sob. Geralt could hear the moment his heart rate moved up. He must have woken, not a dream then. 

“I should…” Geralt started, 

“Daddy!” 

Geralt stiffened. 

No one said anything, although Vesemir had a look that seemed to say he’d worked a few things out. 

“Geralt. Da-da- daddy.” 

“So that’s what he said in the cave.” Lambert helpfully supplied, although there was no joke to follow, which surprised Geralt. “Well, what the fuck you waiting for? Go look after him, you fool,” Lambert added, annoyance rising in his scent rather than any form of mockery.

Geralt stood a moment looking at them all. 

Vesemir’s hold had dropped and everyone was looking at him with nothing but acceptance.

“I guess I have to go, um, go _daddy_.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep I added a chapter because frankly it's taking too long for them to have sexy times!   
> Stay tuned for both little and big sex... but for now take the talking and the feels

Jaskier woke in a dark room, the glow from the fire the only thing keeping the worst of the shadows at bay. He was scared and small in unfamiliar surroundings and alone. 

He cried out when he tried to move and found himself caught up in the blankets, sobs followed, he was so frightened as the tears came and wouldn’t stop. In the dark room, he called out for Daddy. He was the only one who could make this better, to fight the monsters, and keep him safe.

~~~~

Geralt stormed into Jaskier’s room ready to fight anything, protect his friend with his whole damn heart. What he found was a person he knew yet did not know, tangled in the sheets, fully dressed and now covered in the mud from Jaskier’s boots. He looked so small and vulnerable. His eyes red and puffy, his lip wobbled as he tried to free himself from the covers.

Geralt rushed over to Jaskier, pulling some of the covers free and gathering him into a hug “Jaskier, shhh it’s alright I’m here now.” He said, not really thinking on the words but keeping his voice soft and smooth to comfort.

Jaskier crashed into his arms, head going straight to his neck, where he felt the bard taking a couple of deep breaths. Jaskier looked up at him, his eyes wide and his scent still tinged with fear, “Daddy?” 

Geralt couldn’t bear to see that look on Jaskier’s face, the look of vulnerability and fear, of loss. “Yes, Daddy’s here. You’re safe now, little one, I’ve got you.” He didn’t even think, Jaskier needed him, needed _this_ and he would give him anything.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? Get you ready for bed.” He said as he started to strip Jaskier of his travel clothes. His boots came off next, then Geralt moved away to pick up something for him to wear. The sound Jaskier made when he thought Geralt was leaving broke his heart.

“It’s ok, little one, just getting something for you to sleep in. Not going anywhere.”

Jaskier looked at him like he didn’t quite believe it and stuck a thumb in his mouth. Geralt was swift as he gathered the clean underclothes and shirt from Jaskier’s pack and returned to the bed to receive a lap full of bard. 

“Ok let’s take this out so we can get this shirt off?” Geralt said, gently tugging at Jaskier’s thumb stuck in his mouth. The scowl this invoked was adorable, and Geralt leaned in and kissed Jaskier on the nose before he knew what he was doing. He held his breath when he realised what he’d done, ready to be laughed at or worse, screamed at. But none of that happened, Jaskier cooed behind the thumb then popped it out and promptly stuck it in Geralt’s mouth.

And shit, that shouldn’t have turned him on like it did. 

He shook it off, laughing a little when he saw the grin on Jaskier’s face, then went about getting the little one changed. Geralt realised the bed was a lost cause for tonight, soiled from Jaskier’s travel clothes and boots, so he lifted the man up onto his hip like a child, which caused great delight in his little one and took him to his own room.

Geralt meant to just tuck Jaskier into his own bed and leave, but the death grip and the sudden rush of tears put that plan out the window before he’d even got Jaskier to lay his head on the pillow.

“You want daddy to stay awhile?” He asked gently.

“Cuddles?” Jaskier sighed, sticking his thumb back in his mouth. 

“Alright, baby, I think we can manage some cuddles.” Geralt slipped off his shoes and crawled in behind Jaskier. He awkwardly tried to work out how to actually cuddle his best friend turned ward, who he may or may not be madly in love with.

“Da?”

Geralt looked at Jaskier, who was staring at him, eyes huge and welling with tears. “It’s ok baby, Daddy can’t work out how to cuddle.” He reached one arm out towards Jaskier, who wiggled himself into his nook, arms reaching out to wrap around Geralt’s middle. Jaskier’s face was warm where it rested on his shoulder, and Geralt finally let himself relax. 

He felt as though he hadn’t actually let out a breath since they started walking up the Killer. It was crazy how everything he was feeling and thinking could be put aside by a simple touch. Geralt wasn’t afraid of touch- on the path touch was mostly paid for or part of battle- but at Kaer Morhen the wolves sought comfort of all kinds with one another. 

What made _this_ hard, Geralt thought, was the low thrum of desire that filled his every moment when Jaskier was around. So finding this peace in the gentle, innocent touch of Jaskier’s was something Geralt could get behind. 

It wasn’t long before Jaskier’s breaths evened out and Geralt felt the shirt beneath Jaskier’s mouth get moist as the boy dribbled. Geralt took the time to scent Jaskier’s hair, really take his time and learn the man all over again. He wasn’t sure what would happen when the Jaskier he knew came back to him; he hoped everything would change. He was ready for that, for anything the remarkable man- held in his arms- was prepared to share with him.

Anything.

~~~~~~

When Jaskier woke he was still small, his head was in the comfortable hazy place he only got to when he felt truly safe. As he stretched his limbs, he realised he wasn’t alone, in fact as more awareness flooded into him he realised he was in bed with Geralt. 

He jumped out of bed with a yelp, eyes wide as he realised he was small and had been fast asleep on Geralt of Rivia’s shoulder. “I- I- I- ‘m sorry.” He gasped, fighting the urge to stick his thumb in his mouth and cry. He looked down at himself. He was mostly clean and wearing his sleep clothes. Images of the previous night came back to him in drips and drabs. 

He remembered being scared and alone, being tangled and trapped, then feeling warmth and, _no_ , he couldn’t have remembered that right, could he?

“Jaskier, it’s ok.” Geralt said, reaching out from the bed to coax Jaskier back to his side.

“I’m s-s-s-small,” He stuttered, reaching for something logical to say and coming up with nothing. His thumb slipped between his lips as he started to cry.

“It’s ok baby, it’s ok Daddy's here for you… if you want me?” Geralt said, his breath held waiting to be banished, sent away, spat upon.

“S’addy?” Jaskier asked, the word slurred as it was pushed out between his thumb. 

“If you’ll have me.” Geralt nodded.

Jaskier’s scent spiked. Hope filled the room, although he was still shy, not moving from his spot hard against the wall and frankly too far from the bed and Geralt’s arms for his liking. 

Geralt looked out the window. The sky was still dark, and although he could taste the morning on the air, he didn’t want to wake up just yet. “Come on, baby, come back to bed. You must be so tired, sweet thing, you want to cuddle until the sun comes up?” 

Jaskier sniffed, he swayed on his feet for a moment before taking his thumb out of his mouth and nodding slightly. He walked over to Geralt, his eyes so huge, as if he was trying to fathom how this was happening. If Jaskier could only hear Geralt’s heart hammering in his chest, he’d know that Geralt felt the same. 

With one last look to the door, Jaskier pushed his way into the bed and with the utter lack of self consciousness only small children have he settled himself in the circle of Geralt’s arms, sliding a leg between the witcher’s and getting so close Geralt wasn’t entirely sure he could breathe. 

“You ok in there?” He asked the mess of dark hair that threatened to tickle his nose. 

The nod and sigh he got in reply was enough to ease any worry Geralt felt. They settled in together and Geralt indulged in the scent of Jaskier.

At some point Geralt must have dosed off again, the kind of relaxed that he only allowed himself at home in winter. Having Jaskier in his arms only seemed to help, and he was delighted, as the birds sang out and the sun dashed across the room, that Jaskier was still in his arms, still soft and sweet and scenting of his small self.

“Wake up, baby. It’s time for breakfast.” Geralt whispered onto Jaskier’s head. He mused over how long his hair had gotten, in fact he quietly enjoyed the way it curled up behind his ears and the nape of his neck held the softest wisps Geralt had ever touched. 

Jaskier snuffled and sighed from his spot under Geralt’s arm. If Geralt wasn’t so damn happy he’d be embarrassed by how stinky he must be. With all that happened last night, well, he hadn’t planned to wash until this evening, but he also hadn’t planned on sharing his bed. 

Still, Jaskier seemed happy, and as he slowly emerged from his hiding spot, his face soft and relaxed, Geralt didn’t think he’d seen Jaskier this calm and still before. 

“There you are.” He smiled, booping Jaskier’s nose before leaning in to place a kiss on his forehead. He didn’t let himself think about how easy this was, didn’t worry about how they might discuss this when Jaskier returned to his big self. Geralt threw himself into caring for his best friend. “Let’s go see Grandpa Vesemir, your uncles will already be busy, but Grandpa makes a wonderful porridge with honey from his own bees.” Geralt explained as he pried Jaskier’s body from his own. The boy was some kind of limpet champion, he’d give Lambert a run for his money.

“Honey?” Jaskier’s ear perked up at that, his eyes going huge and his tongue sneaking out to lick his lips. Right then, his stomach made a big growl. Jaskier looked down with delight, patting his tummy with both hands and laughing when Geralt leant in to tickle his sides.

Geralt’s heart soared seeing Jaskier laugh. The delight on his face was another kind of magnificent. More so than his adult self, Jaskier looked like the first rays of sun after the depths of winter, something you wish for every dark night but are never quite prepared for how much it takes your breath away. Geralt took a moment to school his heartbeat before setting about finding some clean and warm clothes for Jaskier.

He settled on some of his old clothes, softened to perfection from time and wear, and Jaskier looked so sweet, the clothes swam on him, but he didn’t appear to mind, swinging his long sleeves around until they made flappy sounds that seemed to delight Jaskier.

“Alright, baby, time to go. You want me to carry you or can you walk?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier didn’t reply, only lifted his arms and was swiftly lifted and rested on Geralt’s hip. 

“Carrying it is!” Geralt laughed, then quietly to himself sighed at how perfect it felt. Jaskier, surrounded in his scent, head rested on his shoulder. Geralt would carry this man anywhere if he asked.

~~~~

“You’re late.” Vesemir scowled as they walked into the kitchens. His face changed when he looked up and saw Jaskier on Geralt’s hip. “You must be hungry, little one,” He said as he walked up to Jaskier and Geralt. “How about you come with me and we get you some porridge,” 

“Honey!” Jaskier shouted in reply.

“And honey,” Vesemir said with a smile, “Daddy needs to skip breakfast or his brothers are going to stab him,” Vesemir added, holding his arms out to take Jaskier from Geralt’s hold.

“Daddy in trouble?” Jaskier asked, happily accepting being transferred from one man to the other. 

“No, little one, I’m only teasing. Well, Lambert is unpredictable but Eskel will stick up for him.” Vesemir said, followed by an animated wink to Jaskier, who giggled and tugged at Vesemir’s beard. Apparently appeased enough for his attention to have wondered. 

“Go on, Geralt, I’ll bring some food up in a bit.” Vesemir said, giving Geralt the push he needed to be separated from Jaskier. “We will keep busy here, won’t we?” He said to Jaskier as Geralt walked out of the kitchen.

Vesemir didn’t talk down to Jaskier, he spoke plain and simple, just the same as he always did. Once Jaskier was fed and the plates were cleared, Vesemir sat down next to him. Jaskier quick to squirm until he was happily ensconced in the witcher's lap. 

“It’s been a long time since we’ve had a little at Kaer Morhen,” He said, almost wistfully. “Lot’s of trauma here, lot’s of coping mechanisms. The little’s over winter were always my favourite,” He said, stroking the hair out of Jaskier’s eyes as he settled into Vesemir’s chest. 

Jaskier was quickly slipping off into sleep, cuddled close to Vesemir’s warmth and the deep vibrations from his chest as he continued to speak. 

“I’m sure we can find some toys around somewhere, it’s been a while since I’ve looked through some of the stuff.” Vesemir sighed, memories that hadn’t surfaced for too long now vivid behind his eyes. “When you come back up we will have a good long talk, as a family. I don’t want you being scared to be yourself here, pup.” Jaskier was softly snoring yet Vesemir continued, “Your Daddy loves you very much, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen that look of happiness on his face. You are a balm for his soul and therefore you are family.” Vesemir hummed to himself. _Yes_ , it was about time their pack expanded. “You’re going to be spoiled rotten, that I can guarantee.”

Vesemir let Jaskier snooze for a little while, before he deemed it time to take snacks out to the other witchers. When he gently woke Jaskier up, the man's face had changed.

“Hello, I umm well this is awkward.” Jaskier stammered as he got out of Vesemir’s lap and looked around.

“No trouble at all. It’s a pleasure to meet you properly, Jaskier,” Vesemir said, waving off the awkward energy Jaskier was vibrating with. 

“You just had me cuddled on your lap, dribbling on your shirt, and it’s no trouble?” Jaskier asked, his face the perfect picture of confusion and shame. 

“We are no strangers here to coping mechanisms, Jaskier. We’ve lived long lives, you will come to realise not much can embarrass us.” He said, moving about the kitchen placing sweet buns and fruit into a basket along with a few jugs of beer. “Let’s take this out to the others and get you properly introduced.”

Jaskier shuffled around a while longer, seeming to weigh up what Vesemir said along with what he was beginning to remember about last night, _and dear gods_ , this morning with Geralt. 

“And before you work yourself into a tizz, Geralt has never looked happier. I’m not saying you two don’t need to have a long talk. But you can remove any thoughts of him rejecting you.” 

Jaskier looked at the witcher like he’d read his mind. 

“I’m old, I know things,” was all Vesemir said before picking up the basket and leading the way out to the courtyard.

Vesemir clanged a bell at the arched doorway from the great hall as they walked out into the courtyard, which was instantly followed by a hoot from high above. Jaskier looked up and saw a dark-haired witcher practically acrobat from the scaffolding down to land in a crouch right in front of them. 

“Bout time, old wolf.” Lambert said as he dusted his hands off on his pants and pulled a sweet bun from the basket.

When the others joined them, each pulling out a bun and some fruit from the basket, they settled into a comfortable quiet. All except Jaskier, who looked like he was about to throw up from nerves. Geralt saw this, saw Jaskier was big and wanted more than anything to make him feel good again. 

He sidled up to Jaskier, biting into an apple as he bumped his shoulder into the bard. Jaskier’s focus turned to him, chewing on his lip as he watched Geralt smile. 

“Brothers, I’d like you to meet Jaskier, my best friend and…” He trailed off, turning to check Jaskier. When all he saw was curiosity on the man's face, he threw caution to the wind. “my boyfriend.”

Everyone cheered and teased after that, roughing up Geralt’s hair and shaking Jaskier’s hands. It was a flurry of happiness and cheer, so much so that Jaskier completely forgot about his worries and slipped into the simple comfort of new friends and family.

Geralt gave Jaskier a quick kiss on the cheek before he took off to finish up work with his brothers. He whispered, “We’ll talk this evening, but I’m happy, Jaskier. I only want you to be happy too.” 

Jaskier was too flabbergasted to think much after that. He followed Vesemir through the keep and was put to work canning up the last of the autumn harvest. The two men worked in relative silence, Jaskier humming tunes under his breath as they worked out a way to work together that, by the time the others returned, and the light was dimming had begun to flow as if they had worked together all their lives. 

Jaskier was jolted from his work by a big sweaty chest sidling up behind him, huge arms wrapped around him and a cold nose snuck into his neck.

“Oh,” Jaskier yelped, then as Geralt didn’t let go, “ _oh,_ that’s nice.” he said, turning in the circle of Geralt’s arms and returning the cuddle. 

“Come bathe with me?” Geralt asked, pulling away slightly to let Jaskier see his face.

“Okay.” Jaskier replied. As he followed Geralt, he felt as if he was floating on air. 


	3. Chapter 3

Geralt lead Jaskier to the bathing room, an enormous fire was in the centre, feeding the chamber with heated pipes where the water ran through from the river that ran past the keep. The floor was covered in grates for easy draining of dirty water, the copper piping shimmered in the mottled light. Geralt walked over to one of the bigger tubs nearer the outer walls of the chamber.

“The closer to the fire the hotter the baths, Witcher’s love to boil themselves,” Geralt said, motioning to the other tubs. “This one is my favourite, you’ll find Lambert in that one in the middle.” Geralt scoffed. “Swear he was a lobster in a previous creation.” 

Jaskier laughed, the easy talk helped a lot with the nerves that were threatening to spill. 

“So, _boyfriend_... “ Jaskier paused, fiddling with the buttons on his, _well_ , Geralt’s shirt. “Do we bath together?” He wasn’t sure why this was suddenly something to be nervous about, they had shared baths hundreds of times. Now though it was all different and Jaskier didn’t know where the lines were drawn. He was a bit lost without at least a boundary fence to contain himself.

Geralt moved over to Jaskier, casting aside his clothes with little thought so he was standing in front of the bard in nothing but his underclothes. He took up Jaskier’s hands in his own, bringing them to his mouth so he could lay kisses to his knuckles, turning them and kissing the soft skin of his palms. “I know it feels like everything has changed. It has, and it hasn’t. You’re still Jaskier, jubilant, dramatic, full of heart and love. I’m still me, gruff, terrible with words and madly in love with you.” Geralt brought Jaskier’s wrist to his nose taking a deep breath. “And now we are going to bathe and talk about how I can be the best Daddy for you too.” 

Jaskier’s heart had stopped somewhere between Geralt kissing his knuckles and declaring his love for him. But at last he was able to breathe, the air that filled his lungs had never tasted so good. His face filled with a brilliant smile. “I love you, Geralt of Rivia. With my entire dramatic full heart.” He leant in pushing up onto his toes and kissed the witcher. It was a chaste thing, but filled with promise. “Come on then, you stink to high heaven!” 

Jaskier almost melted when he sunk into the bath, and when Geralt slipped in behind him and began to lather up soap in his hair and those amazing hands massaged his neck, he was pretty sure he’d died on the way up the Killer and this was just his perfect afterlife. He allowed Geralt his fancies, washing him from head to toe and ensuring he was more relaxed than he’d been in years. 

They swapped positions, all in silence, Jaskier working his long fingers through Geralt’s white hair, untangling the knots in the gentle way he always loved. One strand at a time, Jaskier felt as if they had all the time in the world. They took this time to discover each other anew, through touch and scent until there was no place left to wash, no dirt left to clean away.

Jaskier sighed as he placed a kiss to Geralt’s big toe before letting it go to drop back into the tub. Geralt didn’t say a word, only leant forward to scoop Jaskier up and sit him bridal style in his lap. When Jaskier laid his head on Geralt’s shoulder, his hand placed over the witcher’s heart, Geralt spoke.

“Can I be honest with you?” Geralt asked. 

Jaskier lifted his head to look Geralt in the eye, “Of course, Dear heart. I don’t think we have a choice about honesty anymore. Not that I often had cause to lie, but…” Jaskier trailed off. 

“It’s just, if this makes you feel bad, if I make you sick, just _please_ I can change.” Geralt seemed to flounder, so Jaskier pushed away from him, straddling his lap so they could really talk face to face. 

“I promise you couldn’t make me feel that way,” 

“You can’t promise that,” Geralt replied with a slight growl in his tone. 

“Please darling, tell me and then we can move on, tackle it together, ok?” Jaskier leaned in and placed a kiss to Geralt’s forehead. 

“In the cave, you cried out in your sleep. At the time I thought you were calling for your father, you, _uh_ ,” Geralt closed his eyes to continue, “You called out “ _Daddy_ ” while I was holding you, Jaskier. You don’t know what that did to me, I- _Fuck-_ it turned me on.” Geralt tried to look away from Jaskier, anywhere but in his eyes. 

“Oh no you don’t,” Jaskier scolded, lifting Geralt’s chin so he couldn’t avoid his eyes. “Are you saying you might have a bit of a Daddy Kink?” 

Geralt’s cheeks turned pink, “maybe, if that’s something…” 

Jaskier cut him off, sliding deeper into Geralt’s lap and kissed him. This wasn’t like their other kisses, this was filled with passion, with lust. As he pulled away he ground his hips forward so Geralt could feel exactly how Jaskier felt. 

“I, how do i explain this without getting everything mixed up?” Jaskier asked, quite unable to gather his thoughts just yet, after being greeted by Geralt’s very positive feelings. He sat back biting his lip as he thought, his hands idling on Geralt’s shoulders, his thumbs making small circles. “Firstly, that is something I'm into. Yes, if you would like to, I mean if you would let me call you Daddy even maybe when I’m big too? I’d like that a lot.” 

Geralt sighed, Jaskier could feel the tension leave his shoulders a small smile making its way across his face. He hummed, moving his hands to Jaskier’s thighs and nodded to prompt the bard to continue. 

“I guess it’s time to do the talking thing, as much as i’d like to skip over that and do the daddy and the kinky thing.” Jaskier laughed, clearly working out the last of his nerves. “The _small_ part of me, that part of me is sometimes a place to escape to, sometimes I don’t have that sort of control over it. Sometimes it just comes over me, mostly when i’m upset or stressed.” Jaskier went quiet, musing if he should tell Geralt or not. Of course the witcher had laid himself bare, Jaskier should too. “When you would be late on a hunt, that was hard, I’d fall and sometimes I’d just cry until you came back, I'd have to hide it, pretend to sleep. You must have thought me insane.”

“Hmm I always wondered, I'd worry but you- you were so convincing. It was your scent, now I know, it changes when you’re... “ He tensed looking to Jaskier for the right word to say.

“I like small.” Jaskier said, and Geralt smiled, accepting the help with a nod. 

“When you’re small your scent softens, it’s hard to explain... like now,” Geralt leant in and took a deep breath against Jaskier’s neck, “You are rich,” He snaked out his tongue and licked behind Jaskier’s ear, “spicy and hot, I like it very much.” Geralt leant back again, he was please to see how Jaskier’s pupils had blown wide, “When you’re small it’s so different, soft and sweet like honey,” Because he couldn’t resist it and because he could freely kiss this man in his lap now, Geralt leant in and kissed his lips, giving Jaskier just a hint of tongue before breaking away with his lower lip clasped in his teeth, he let go, “I like that very much as well.” 

Jaskier looked hypnotised in place, his mouth hung ajar and his hips circled microscopically against Geralt’s thighs. “Melitele,Geralt, if you keep this up we will not be finishing this talk.” Jaskier practically gasped like he hadn’t taken a breath in too long. 

Geralt ducked his head in apology and leant back in the tub giving both of them some room to breath and to think. 

“So the small thing. There’s a long story I just don’t think I have it in me to tell it right now, let's just say growing up in my home was not for the faint of heart. Which it so happened I was. It’s a coping mechanism I guess, something that never really went away, I’m about 5 or 6 at a guess, we had a nanny then who was wonderful. This woman was so smart, Geralt, and kind and talented, she played the lute!” Jaskier was joyous as he spoke getting lost in the story for a while. 

“I think my heart broke when she was sent away. It wasn’t until oxenfurt that I realised what happened to me, I was sharing rooms with this fellow, Marx, who told me one morning how i’d acted like “a little prissy baby” as he so elegantly put it. No, no, darling, don’t fuss. I moved out after that, into single rooms from then on and I spent a lot of late nights combing every book on the sexual revolution of 1169 to find out what was going on,” Jaskier shrugged, squeezing Geralt’s shoulder’s where his hands lay as if to reassure him.

“It’s a whole thing, apparently,” Jaskier said with a wave of his hand, “not a freak, so that was a good thing. Except you try finding people who don’t think you’re a freak. Brothels were my best bet but I couldn’t indulge much until I’d left school and had a steady income. Even then, well,” Jaskier motioned to Geralt, “You were there pissing off all the madams when I paid. I thought you knew at first, then I realised you thought I was being overcharged. It didn’t help when i tried to return to some alone, let me tell you.” 

Geralt nodded, for him the strange gaps in their past were finally filling in the missing pieces and the weight of worry off Geralt’s shoulders. He hadn’t realised he’d been carrying it. 

“Then when we started, you know, the kiss, the hands, I didn’t want anyone else. Truth be told you’ve been the only one I’ve wanted since we met, Geralt. You don’t know how good it is to say that. Here I am, naked sitting in your lap and you want to be my daddy,” Jaskier hiccuped around a sob, “can we finish this later, Geralt? I need to feel you, I need to know you, _this_ , is real, please.” Jaskier fell forward on Geralt’s lap wrapping his arms around the witcher's shoulders and shuddering behind choked off sobs.

“Shh baby, we can, but not here,” Geralt said, ensuring his hands were under Jaskier’s thighs he stood up from the bath water with Jaskier wrapped around him, stepping out of the bath and not stopping to dry off, pick up their clothes, nothing. Geralt walked his way through the keep with Jaskier clinging to him, his face buried in Geralt’s neck. 

As he walked through the great hall, both Lambert and Eskel gave a silent thumbs up as he walked by, not wanting to break the moment, not even to yell at Geralt because really they had all agreed no butts in the hall. As they walked, Jaskier was pouring words of adoration, of promise and love right into Geralt’s ear- the softest of whispers for Geralt and him alone.

Geralt faltered once or twice having to push Jaskier’s back against a wall and smash their mouths together, Jaskier was a menace, grinding his hips down in Geralt’s hold rutting his cock against the witchers hard abs while teasing the head of Geralt’s own. This ended when Geralt hoisted Jaskier up so his crotch was in his face and his legs now dangling over Geralt's shoulders,

“Uh don’t you need to see…” Jasksier said before he was cut off with a snarled “No” then he was back up against the wall and _Melitele tits_ Geralt was freeing Jaskier’s cock from his pants and his lips, _the white wolf’s lips_ were suckling the head of Jaskier’s cock. “Oh. ok right then,” Jaskier spluttered before almost losing consciousness when he was simultaneously pulled free from the wall, gravity pulling him back as Geralt swallowed him down to the root. 

The feeling of falling and being swallowed whole almost had him coming there and then, of course, Geralt’s arms and hands were there to catch him and Jaskier had never had a doubt. That’s what made it so hot. Jaskier let out a moan, his head tipping back and swaying as Geralt walked with his cock down his throat and apparently finding his way just great. He needed to pull off Jaskier's cock when he came to his door, lowering Jaskier just a bit to grasp the handle.

Jaskier landed with a sigh on the pile of furs that covered Geralt’s bed, he laughed when he realised how open and free he felt right now, naked and utterly in love with his best friend, who for some totally insane reason loved him back just the way he was. He hiccuped again, the emotion welling up so he was overflowing. 

“You think too loudly,” Geralt mused, prowling towards Jaskier so he was above him caging him in with powerful arms and legs. Geralt smiled, a look that was part predatory and part soft, “What does it take to turn that brain of yours off, huh?” He leant in and nipped at the side of Jaskier’s mouth, “not that,” he said, flicking his eyes up to Jaskier’s, then winked and sunk to kiss behind his ear breathing hot promises onto his skin before tugging his lobe with teeth. 

“Closer,” 

Geralt caught Jaskier’s eyes dart to his nipples then slip his lip between his teeth. He could see the tell that loud a mile off. Ghosting his mouth over one nipple before grazing his chin covered in a thick stubble moments after.

“There,” Geralt purred, dipping his hips down to allow them both some friction while sucking the bud of Jaskier’s nipple into his mouth. The sound that came from Jaskier’s lips was of the highest caliber of sin and Geralt thought he could die now, if he had to, having heard that noise.

Then Geralt was the one to almost lose it when Jaskier pulled his hair tight, lifting his head from Jaskier’s chest.

“ _Fuck_ , Daddy,” Jaskier moaned, his head artfully falling to the side, giving Geralt the perfect view up his neck. 

Geralt growled and surged up to kiss the words off Jaskier’s lips, “need you,” he said, the words short and clipped like he was holding back, not wanting to overwhelm Jaskier. 

Jaskier knew how to stop his witcher from thinking too. _Well_ , he had a pretty good guess- he threw an arm over his head and arched his body up to meet Geralt’s, “Need you too, Daddy,” And, _yep_ , that was enough.

Geralt briefly looked like his upper register functioning had completely switched off, Jaskier watched as gooseflesh rose over the Witcher’s arm’s and down his strong thighs. He decided to go easy on the Witcher, sitting up and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Kissing his way across Geralt’s mouth, along his jaw and down his neck, Jaskier whispered _“I love you's'_ ' everywhere he could reach. 

Once Geralt caught up, his mind and body now back in his own command, he reached between them, taking them both in hand. Their bodies moved together, Jaskier desperate for closeness wrapped his arms around Geralt, letting his hand rest on the back of the witcher’s neck leaving one free to slide up and down his back as if to reassure himself that Geralt was really there, really with him in this moment.

As he gasped at the touch, Jaskier pulled back slightly, looking between them to where Geralt held their cocks in one large hand. “You make me feel so small, Geralt,” Jaskier moaned, no hint of shame or embarrassment in the statement, in fact the scent of happiness was filling the room and making Geralt almost dizzy with need. “Come on me, I need you to mark me,” Jaskier babbled as Geralt’s hand sped up.

“Fuck, Jaskier, you can’t say things like that,” Geralt groaned, the head of his cock red and hot, his balls drawing up so suddenly, making his stomach do flips. 

“I mean it, wolf,” Jaskier replied, surging into a kiss, his hips working hard, pushing him up into the circle of Geralt’s hand, and against the hot, soft flesh of Geralt’s cock. “Come for me, Daddy.” 

The roar that Geralt let out as he came vibrated through Jaskier, pulling the man’s own orgasm from him. They were both breathing hard, hips stuttering as Geralt’s hand stayed in place, milking everything they had. 

Jaskier broke the moment with a gentle laugh. Overcome with sensitivity and feelings threatening to overwhelm him again, he pulled Geralt down to him. The witcher gently rested his weight over Jaskier, finally giving up on holding himself off- scared he would squash Jaskier- when the bard wrapped his legs around Geralt’s waist and wrestled him down. 

“Mmm- want to feel you, Daddy,” Jaskier mumbled into Geralt’s hair. 

Geralt couldn’t help but comply, letting Jaskier cling to him, to pull him down into their shared mess that lay on Jaskier’s stomach. Their combined scent was setting off Geralt’s senses, the continual feedback loop of _mine, yours_ made the witcher let out a rumble as damn near to a purr as anything Jaskier had ever heard. 

They may regret it in the morning, but right now, wrapped up in each other, it was perfect. And slowly, quietly, they drifted off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay my friends. This "one shot" is finally done!   
> I hope you enjoyed this little story as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
> I always accept prompts for little!verse fics, feel free to send them to me over on tumblr if you get an idea!
> 
> [My tumblr](https://whataboutthefish.tumblr.com/)

Several days later, Jaskier was tucking into breakfast, his porridge thick and creamy and dripping with honey. He felt himself flush when Vesemir placed it in front of him with a muttered, “Eat up, kid” before the old witcher fetched his own food. After only a couple of spoonfuls, Jaskier felt the familiar pull at the edges of his being. 

As the world became bigger around him, his vision zoning in and out on his hands, the way they held the spoon, watching as he dunked it into the thick porridge. He reached out to Geralt sitting beside him, took up his pinky finger in his hand, giving it a little tug and catching Geralt’s attention. The tell was one they agreed upon over many conversations together, alone and with the others. A sign that Jaskier was feeling small to aleve Geralt’s fear of not seeing the signs and allow Jaskier to remember he wouldn’t have to hide. 

The other witchers were more than understanding when Jaskier explained everything to them. Eskel asked lots of important questions to gain a better understanding, Lambert was concerned with limits and Vesemir hoped he could spoil Jaskier when he was small. 

With everything laid out, cards on the table, Jaskier felt completely at ease for the first time in as long as he could remember to actually fall and know there were so many powerful arms to catch him. This would be the first time, with everyone there; Jaskier had been small with Geralt several times since they had arrived, but as yet not with the others.

As Jaskier grasped Geralt’s little finger, his eyes grew larger and looked around at these enormous men, Daddy and his family. Geralt was quick to draw his attention to Jaskier, glancing between his little finger and the bard’s face, then finally scenting the air before pulling Jaskier into his lap.

“Good morning, baby.” Geralt sighed, nosing into Jaskier’s hair, enjoying the sweetness of Jaskier’s state.

“Morning D-d-d-daddy,” Jaskier stuttered, blushing at the way he stumbled over his words and hiding his head in Geralt’s neck.

“None of that, Jaskier, Daddy won’t laugh at you and neither will your Uncles and Grampa,” Geralt said, rubbing a soothing hand over his back. His baby often stuttered when he spoke and Geralt had never once looked down on him, he was no stranger to finding pain in speech. He needed time to get his words together. Among the people out on the path he could come across as rude, no one had enough time, never the patience to wait for him to speak. 

At home they all knew and waited as long as it took. It’s what Geralt had always loved about Jaskier. Yes, the man had an incessant mouth, but when Geralt had something to say the bard never rushed him, never finished his sentences for him, always waited and _really_ listened. Of course he’d give his baby the same respect.

It didn’t take Jaskier long to grow curious, peeking out from his daddy’s hold to look at his uncles and grampa. Jaskier gave a shy wave to Vesemir. Grampa was the only one the small Jaskier knew. The others he knew in that dark, quiet place in his mind- he knew them well- but here they were big, new creatures that fascinated him.

“That’s Uncle Eskel, and Uncle Lambert,” Geralt said, introducing Jaskier to his brothers.

“Lamb” Jaskier cheered, reaching out to Lambert.

“You want to play with Uncle Lamb, do you?” Geralt asked gently, he was met with a furious nod from Jaskier. He picked him up and walked around the table handing Jaskier over to his brother with a look that clearly said “make him cry and I’ll kill you”. Lambert nodded, then sat Jaskier on his lap, straddled and facing him. 

Jaskier seemed content to play with Lambert’s medallion, it was different to Daddy’s and he liked the way it was so spiky. 

“Careful there, pup.” Lambert whispered, “Don’t go poking an eye out or your Daddy will be angry with me.” He said, catching Jaskier’s eyes and seeing him blush a deep beautiful colour.

The adults went back to eating and talking amongst themselves, Lambert’s restless energy making its way out via his bouncing leg. Jaskier giggling along hiccuping as he held onto Lambert’s shoulders. Jaskier was beautiful in his carefree way, his scent was sweet as honey... until it wasn’t. 

Almost the very moment Geralt caught the scent of fear and shame he launched across the table.

“What did you do?” He growled, pulling Jaskier off Lambert’s lap, eyes scanning his baby’s body, scenting him.

“Noo, Daddy.” Jaskier cried.

Turning Jaskier in his arms to face him, Jaskier’s face was a bright red, the front of his pants tented. The scent of shame rose, as did the lust. Oh, _oh,_ “Baby, did you start to feel good while bouncing on Uncle Lamb’s knee?” He asked.

Jaskier stuck a thumb in his mouth and nodded, the tears still falling down his cheeks. 

“You scare yourself, pup?” Lambert asked, gently stroking some of Jaskier’s hair from his face. 

Jaskier nodded again, looking from his Daddy to Lambert and back again. He wriggled in Geralt’s hold after a minute, Geralt just holding him close on his lap, grounding Jaskier with his contact. 

“Do you want to show everyone how Daddy taught you to play with yourself, Jaskier?” Geralt asked, his voice a whisper aimed directly into his baby’s ear. He watched as it had the desired effect, causing a flood of gooseflesh to spring up down his neck.

Jaskier didn’t speak, he took a long moment to search Geralt’s eyes, finding nothing amiss he reached out for Lambert and giggled when the witcher picked him up and spun him around really fast before sitting him, back to chest straddled over his lap.

Lambert circled Jaskier’s middle with his arms, slotting his head on Jaskier’s shoulder. “Let’s get you out of these shall we,” Lambert said, unfastening Jaskier’s pants and sliding them down his thighs. “Look at that sweet thing,” He purred. Lambert ran his fingers over the sensitive flesh before picking up one of Jaskier’s hands and nudging him towards his cock.

Jaskier looked with enormous eyes at his Daddy, then took in all the wolves watching him back with nothing but acceptance and lust in their eyes. Through his hazy mindset he couldn’t help but feel loved and cherished. He took hold of his cock just like Daddy had shown him, and with a nod from Geralt he started to move his hand.

The gasp that left his lips was a thing of beauty, the soft innocence that wrapped around him when he was small was not pushed aside while he touched his cock, instead it enhanced both states. The rush of doing something new and feeling those feelings when his skin was soft and his body felt tiny. It was a heady thing indeed. 

Jaskier wiggled in Lambert’s lap, squirming as his hand touched his cock a little rougher than Geralt had shown him. Coordination in this state was something Jaskier struggled with too, but the wolves, his Daddy, his Uncles and his Grampa watched him with open desire.

“That’s a little rough there, baby.” Geralt said, he was about to move but one look from Lambert, another silent conversation and a nod, and Geralt was sitting back down crossing a leg over his knee ready to watch the show. 

“Hey baby,” Lambert whispered into Jaskier’s ear. “How about you let Uncle Lamb take care of you.” 

Jaksier shivered, turning his head towards those lips seeking and being granted a kiss. It was sloppy, Jaskier hadn’t quite got the hang of adult kissing, but he lacked nothing in enthusiasm. Plus the groan Lambert made had Jaskier leaning back, letting his Uncle take his weight as he dropped his arms to his sides. Practically a rag doll in Lambert’s hold.

“That’s a good boy,” Lambert said huskily, “Just sit back and relax.”

Lambert took Jaskier’s cock in one large hand, the other slipped up under his shirt to hold warm and tight against his chest. Jaskier was grateful for that hand, it kept him grounded as he felt himself begin to fly.

Lambert’s fist took a couple of experimental tugs before he was nudged by Eskel and oil was poured into his palm. Now when he slid down Jaskier’s shaft, they both shuddered. Jaskier’s hips moved of their own accord, somewhat abortive inside of Lambert’s strong hold. Lambert took it slow, just casually fisting his cock while rubbing circles on Jaskier’s chest with his other hand.

“Baby, let them hear you. You know I don’t like it when you hold back.” Geralt spoke up. He was watching Jaskier chew his lower lip, holding his breath as Lambert made him feel so good. “Let us hear how good you feel, little one.” Geralt cooed, smiling when Jaskier groaned.

“Good boy,” Lambert whispered into his ear, the effect immediate as Jaskier giggled, then relaxed further into Lambert’s chest, his eyes slipping shut as he let his head fall back onto Lambert’s shoulder.

Lambert took a long moment to properly scent the kid, he delighted in the softness he found there. He ran his fingers over Jaskier’s pert nipples and captured the moan that slipped free with his mouth, kissing, consuming the sound. He tightened his fist and tugged Jaskier’s cock, squeezing tight at the head to produce a small pearl of pre-come. Breaking contact with Jaskier’s chest, Lambert scooped up the droplet with a finger and licked it clean.

Jaskier’s voice broke over the groan he let out, “Uncle Lamb?” Jaskier moaned, he’d never seen Daddy do that before.

“Mmm, what’s up, kid?” Lambert asked, delighted in how squirmy Jaskier was getting in his lap. He reached down and squeezed another heavy drop from his cock head.

“Y-y-you like that?” Jaskier stuttered, his thumb coming to his mouth as the new arousal caused him to feel even more vulnerable and small. 

“This?” Lambert asked, taking another swipe and bringing it to Jaskier’s mouth, gently pushing his thumb aside and letting Jaskier suckle on his fingers. “Tastes like you, kid, of course I like it.” He whispered into Jaskier’s ear as he pushed his fingers deeper into the little one's mouth. Jaskier could only moan around the intrusion, his cock twitching in Lambert’s tight hold when the salty taste of himself sparked across his tastebuds. “Delicious, no?” Lambert teased. 

He removed his fingers, returning his hand to Jaskier’s chest, to torment his nipples. The way Jaskier was shifting and wriggling in his lap was beautiful to watch but even better for Lambert, who was being treated to the tight ass rubbing itself against his cock and driving the witcher wild. 

Geralt was palming his cock through his pants, slow and deliberate. He loved the way the room was filling with the joined scents of his brothers and Vesemir’s lust. Jaskier’s scent cut through all of that like a spring breeze, and Geralt thought he’d never get used to this. When you took in the view, it was a wonder that they all hadn’t come in their pants yet. Jaskier’s face was open and soft with innocence, his cheeks flushed. The pink traveled down his neck and reached his chest getting lost beneath the soft hair there and creeping down getting lost under his shirt. 

He’s movements were uncoordinated in Lambert’s lap, his arms hung loose at his side, his head rested on Lambert’s shoulder leaving the long expanse of his neck on show. His cock, now dripping hot and red in Lambert’s hand, was beautiful, Lambert’s pale skin next Jaskier’s olive tones a stark contrast that Geralt wanted to commit to memory. As Lambert sped up his hand, Geralt could tell his brother was tormenting Jaskier’s nipples under his shirt by the pitiful whines that flowed almost continuously from the little one's mouth.

Geralt desperately wanted to take his own cock in hand, but this was for his baby and the others, he would have his time and then it would be even better as he pushed himself into one of Jaskier hot holes. For now he watched his baby, watched as his breath hitched and his balls pulled up, tightening, ready for release.

“Do you want to come, baby?” Geralt asked, his voice sinfully low and husky in his state.

Jaskier’s eyes flew open, his thumb coming to his mouth again as he nodded desperately, eyes hazy and unfocused.

“What do you say?” Geralt asked, laughing when his baby’s brow furrowed while he tried to understand what was being asked of him.

“P-p-pwease, Dada.” Jaskier moaned. He only used that name when he’s slipping even deeper into his headspace. 

Geralt’s smile was feral as his gaze met Lambert’s, “Come for us, baby. Show Uncle Lamb what a good boy you are.” 

The effect was immediate as Jaskier tensed, every muscle spasming, the sounds leaving his mouth no more than incoherent babble while Lambert worked his cock through his orgasm. Jaskier collapsed against Lambert’s chest, heaving for breath while he came back to himself. All the while Lambert was whispering praise into the boy's ear, running a soothing hand over his chest. 

Geralt rose to get a damp cloth and wiped away the mess, all the while Jaskier sucked on his thumb and shivered. Geralt was about to go back to his seat when Jaskier opened his eyes, quickly filling with tears, and held out his arms.

“D-d-dada.” Jaskier cried.

“Hey, what’s all this for, baby?” Geralt cooed as he pulled his little one into his arms, tucking Jaskier’s face into his neck and swaying on his feet from side to side to soothe his boy. 

Jaskier didn’t answer, only snuffled into his neck and clung tightly with small hands. “S’okay, shhh, s’okay, little one. Just overwhelmed is that it?” Geralt asked, tucking Jaskier’s hair behind his ear so he could see his face. Jaskier blinked up at him, tears falling but no genuine fear or pain to be seen. Once Geralt scented the boy to be sure, he kept shifting from foot to foot rubbing circles into Jaskier’s back with one hand, patting his bottom with the other. 

A few minutes and Jaskier was back to cooing, snuffles stopped and replaced with giggles every time Geralt turned and Jaskier caught sight of Eskel making funny faces at him. 

“I think it’s time I get to cuddle with my grandson, Geralt.” Vesemir announced, pulling them all out of the trance they’d been caught in. Jaskier’s gurgles sounded cheery as Geralt passed his baby over to the oldest witcher. 

“I prepared some bottles this morning, Geralt. Would you heat one for me?” Vesemir asked, as he fussed over the little one in his lap. He was fastening the buttons on Jaskier’s pants when Geralt brought the warmed milk over. “Thank you, pup. Now, little one, I think it’s time for a nap while the pups do their chores. Then maybe we can see what sort of mischief we can get up to later.” Vesemir spoke in a baby voice, focused entirely on the man in his arms. 

Jaskier looked completely at ease being rocked against Vesemir’s chest, eyes staring up at the old witcher with nothing but trust and devotion in their gaze. Geralt stroked a hand through Jaskier’s hair, bending to place a kiss to his forehead before leaving. He smiled fondly as he walked past Lambert on his knees in front of Eskel greedily sucking down the witcher’s cock stripping his own with wild abandon.

“Don’t make a mess on the kitchen floor.” Vesemir grunted, the only clue he knew exactly what was happening around him. His attention was firmly on Jaskier. He was holding the bottle to the baby’s mouth, watching him carefully as he took long pulls from the teat, made specifically for bigger mouths. “That’s it, little one, fill up that tummy of yours and close your eyes. I’ve got you, nothing to fear when grampa is holding you.” Vesemir said soothingly, rubbing circles over his back and rocking him gently in his arms. 

Jaskier woke several hours later, settled deeply in his small headspace. There was no fear in his scent and eyes as he looked blearily up at Vesemir, content and safe. 

“There’s my little baby.” Vesemir cooed, delighted to see Jaskier’s eyes still holding the softness of his small headspace. Vesemir held the boy until he was fully awake, sitting him up on his lap a bit. Jaskier yawned, his mouth going impossibly wide before he giggled and a glint sparked in his eyes.

“Grampa, Grampa, mischief!” Jaskier squealed, his voice high and bright if not a little rough from their earlier activities. 

Vesemir only chuckled and roughed the boy's hair up, he never got over the delight of looking after littles. He scooped Jaskier up, tossing him over his shoulder, which elicited a beautiful scream, patting Jaskier’s butt as they walked through the keep on their way to find some fun.

~~~~~~~

Dinner was all prepared, Vesemir was just placing the serving dishes on the large table in the kitchen when the pups came in, thankfully already washed up and changed out of their work clothes. Geralt made his way straight to Jaskier, picking him up and spinning him around before kissing him softly on the lips. 

Jaskier was overjoyed to see his Daddy, and when Uncle Lamb and Eskel came to sit at the table he excitedly showed them the new toys Grampa Vesemir had given him. Jaskier had taken to a carved wooden horse, declaring it named Roach, and was having a great time making it gallop all over the large muscles of Eskel’s chest, legs and arms, up and around and down over and over. Sometimes Roach would jump Eskel’s lap, sometimes he would fly, Jaskier narrated the story in his childlike babble while the others chatted amongst themselves and served up their food.

“Ok little one, time for dinner. Put Roach in her stable for now.” Geralt said, placing the wooden box the toys had come from on its side so Jaskier could pretend it was a house for his horse. Geralt watched Jaskier pretend to rub Roach down, no doubt how he’d watched Geralt do a hundred times before. “That’s a good boy, ok say bye-bye Roach,” Geralt praised. 

“B-b-bye Roachy.” Jaskier said happily before he turned his big eyes on Geralt. “Dada,” He pushed himself over on the bench so he was sitting as close as possible to Geralt.

“What do you need, sweetling?” Geralt asked, cutting up the meat on Jaskier’s plate to more manageable size. 

“Help pwease.” Jaskier replied, and Geralt couldn’t refuse when his baby used his manners. 

Dinner went quietly, Geralt hand feeding Jaskier between his own bites. The wolves talked about the chores and what was left to do while Jaskier quietly accepted each mouthful, his eyes getting droopy by the last bite. 

It was Vesemir who rose first, but instead of clearing away the food he came back to the table with a clay round object, it was glazed with a bright blue shine that resembled Jaskier’s eyes. The wolves all straightened up, exchanging looks before turning their focus to Vesemir.

“I know what you’re thinking. The little one deserves the best, and it’s about time this old wolf got over some things.” Vesemir grumbled, taking the clay ocarina and placing his lips to it. 

The wolves of Kaer Morhen had not heard these sounds in these halls for many decades. The beautiful tune filled the room, and they held their breath for a long moment, all lost to memory. It was Jaskier that pulled them back to the present, clapping his hands and bouncing on his bottom.

Eskel stood in an effortless movement and bent to one knee next to Jaskier. “Would you do me the honour of this dance, good sir?” Eskel asked, turning on the charm like only he could. 

Jaskier clasped his hands to Eskel’s cheeks, Geralt noticed the way Eskel flinched before leaning into the innocent touch, seldom felt from the hands of humans. He laughed, “I’ll take that as a yes then, come on little one, up you get.” 

Eskel lifted Jaskier from his seat as if he weighed nothing and placed him down so Jaskier’s feet were stood on top of his own. He held Jaskier close to his chest, resting his face in the little one's hair and they danced around the room.

Jaskier had never felt so small as when Eskel held him, he laughed and laughed as they jigged and spun around the kitchen, soon Lambert was twirling Geralt in his arms and Jaskier was passed from witcher to witcher as Vesemir kept playing music that filled them all with joy.

~~~~~

When the first spring flowers began to bloom and the winter ice had started to melt, Vesemir saw each of his pups off on the path. He hadn’t seen them leave with such joy in their hearts in a long time, maybe ever, and he realised even he was not left unaffected by the beautiful gift they’d been given this winter. Jaskier and Geralt were the last to leave, mostly because Jaskier couldn’t stop crying which in turn kept him small much longer than he’d intended. 

As they stood at the big gates, Geralt and Vesemir touching foreheads and whispering promises to one another, Jaskier clung to Roaches reins, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. When Geralt pulled away, Vesemir reached out for Jaskier. The bard ran into his arms, tears falling freely even in his adult state; he was a poet after all, his emotions had always lived close to the surface. 

Vesemir held him close and when Jaskier looked up at him they rubbed noses, the little source of affection something that had become uniquely theirs over the long winter. “I’m going to miss you, Grampa.” Jaskier whispered. 

“Me too, little one. Here, take this.” Vesemir pulled a bundle out of his pocket and pushed it into Jaskier’s hands. “She will miss you too much if she stays here,” He said by way of explanation.

Jaskier looked into the bundle to see Roach, he smiled brightly up at the old witcher, unable to speak for fear of sobbing. He mouthed a thank you and kissed Vesemir on the cheek. “Until next winter then,” Jaskier said, turning his back on Vesemir and Kaer Morhen. He couldn’t turn back as they walked down the trail, his hand was firmly grasped in Geralt’s, wooden Roach in the other, Jaskier smiled through the tears. 

He didn’t quite know how it happened, but somehow he’d found his home and a family, but most of all he’d found true happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> I love to hear your thoughts, they are the fuel that makes fics happen!


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